


Secret Ingredient

by LivetoFlyFreely



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, M/M, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fic, shitty innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivetoFlyFreely/pseuds/LivetoFlyFreely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo stumbles into Oikawa's bakery after a mission gone badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Ingredient

**Author's Note:**

> Just a disclaimer ahead of time, I have very little knowledge of bakeries or secret agents, so take this all with a grain of salt. I'm also not entirely sold on the characterization, but I'm made it a goal to write more and actually post what I do write, so up it goes. Enjoy

The chime of the door’s bell surprises Oikawa, and he pops his head above the counter to inform the potential customer that no, just because the door is unlocked and the lights are on doesn’t mean they’re open just yet; the sign still says closed, thank you very much. The words die in his throat as he first registers the stranger’s _face_ , it’s unfair for someone to be that attractive while looking like they were on the losing end of a bar fight,I mean really. His hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days, and his eyes were mesmerizing in a way that should probably be concerning.

“Sorry, but you’re the only place I’ve seen that’s open.” The voice broke Oikawa from his momentary daze, and only then did he see the blood, squeaking out a “shitfuck hold on” as he runs to the back for a first aid kit.

The stranger, for his part, just smiles as he watches him flounder a bit, taking a moment to appreciate that as shitty as his situation currently is, at least the guy is cute. He and his team had been on a routine mission, just simple acquisition of information. Everything had been going smoothly, and it looked like they’d be able to wrap up with no hiccups, when everything had gone to hell. Kenma had barely been able to give a warning over the comm before they were in the middle of chaos and explosions. They’d been ambushed by a small army, and it had been difficult to focus on anything but getting out alive. He’d been separated from Bokuto and Akaashi during the mess, barely managing to stow away on an outbound truck going who knows where, and the radio, his only connection to anyone, had somehow been broken.

Kuroo had been in worse situations before, but being lost in an unfamiliar town, beat to hell, and with no way of knowing if the others made it out okay was nearing the top. He didn’t have a chance to brood on it though, as the cute brunette came back with a first aid kit and what looked like a bunch of clean white towels.

“Those might not be the best of ideas” he pointed out “blood tends to stain.”

The other man huffed, “better than you bleeding out all over the floor.” His cheeks puffed out a bit, and damn if that wasn’t adorable. “You’re going to need to take off your shirt so I can get to the cuts.”

Kuroo didn’t even wait for him to finish before lifting the black shirt over his head with ease, Oikawa’s mouth going dry at the sight. He stuttered for a moment, before shaking himself back to reality and regaining his composure.

“So what happened to you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome? Here, sit over here so I can reach everything.” Oikawa directed him to one of the tables off to the side of the bakery. Thank God for small talk, he’d need _something_  to keep himself distracted as he worked on this shirtless, well-toned man.

“Would it be too cliche to say that if I told you I’d have to kill you? Because I think that applies in this case.” At the others widening eyes, he hurriedly added “Not what you’re thinking, I swear! I’m not one of the bad guys, I promise, but what I do is confidential.”

“I see” he hummed ”then is your name confidential too, Mr. Secret Agent?”

“Nah, that’s fine. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, and I must say it is a pleasure, though the situation may not be the best.”

“Oikawa Tooru. Nice to meet you, even under strange circumstances.” he paused, finishing up cleaning the cuts. “Well, that should do it. For all the blood, there didn’t seem to be anything too deep, how lucky for you” Oikawa announced as he slapped Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Ah, thanks. It would have been a pain trying to get around like that. Not to mention all the attention it would have drawn.” He pulled his shirt back on over his head, grinning to himself at Oikawa’s quiet dismay. “By the way, I don’t suppose you’d know the directions to either Fukurodani or Nekoma, would you? I have to admit I’m not even sure what city I’m in right now.”

Oikawa’s eyebrows raised a bit, but he didn’t pry. “Well, Nekoma would be the closest, and your best bet getting there would probably be the bus. Seijou’s not really large enough for a train line, so I think that or a cab would be your best bet, and I can guarantee a bus would be cheaper.”

He paused to give Kuroo a once-over. “I’m guessing you don’t keep spare change in you fancy spy outfit, so I guess I’ll lend you the money.”

Kuroo smirked a bit “Am I to assume that by ‘lend’ you’re expecting me to pay it back?”

Oikawa pulled the cash from his wallet and waved it over “Naturally. I’m not made of money, you know.” He walked around to the other side of the counter, packaging one of their cream-filled donuts and handing it to Kuroo. “The cash I gave you should be a bit extra for bus fare, so consider this part of the charge. It’s a long trip, after all, and I wouldn’t want you to starve before you can pay me back.”

Kuroo’s smirk widened “A cream-filled donut? You wouldn’t perhaps be alluding to something else now would you?”

Oikawa hummed again, and Kuroo decided that he quite liked the sound. “I guess you’ll just have to pay me back, and maybe you’ll see.” Oikawa leaned on the counter, propping his chin on the palm of his hand;  the look on his face was anything but innocent.

“Well, if I’m going to make a special trip to pay you back, we might as well make a day of it and go see a movie or something, wouldn’t you agree? And of course, planning around our schedules would be so much easier if I had your phone number.”

“You’re right. Guess we should fix that, for convenience’s sake.” Oikawa ripped off a piece of receipt tape and jotted his information down on the back, handing the paper over to Kuroo. “I look forward to hearing from you soon.”

He watched Kuroo’s back- his well-defined, muscular back- as it left the store and turned down the street, before realizing with a curse that he had never actually given Kuroo directions to the bus station.

```````````````````````````

Kuroo stared idly out the window of the bus, thoughts straying in several different ways at once. He worried about his teammates, entertained thoughts about his next meeting with Oikawa, sometimes straying to the other passengers. He’d gotten about three blocks down from the bakery before realizing that he actually had no idea where he was going, and that he’d probably never hear the end of it if he had to go back and ask. Luckily he ran into a nice elderly couple who had been more than happy to help out the “nice gentleman,” and sent him on his merry way.

A few hours later, and he was killing time people-watching, silently begging the bus to go faster, to reach his destination just a minute sooner so that he could find out if the others were okay or not. He’d long since eaten the sugar-laden donut from Oikawa, a welcome foresight. It didn’t sate him completely, but it took the edge off his hunger for now. It’s amazing how quickly his other senses came back after the adrenaline wore off.

Finally the bus slowed, arriving at their destination. Kuroo was the first off, halfway down the road by the time the others had even managed to reach the steps. This was a town he knew intimately, and he quickly set pace toward his destination. He sped past streets and shops, turning down alley after alley, and looping back around a few times out of habit, before stopping in front of a nondescript cement building near the outskirts of the city. Heading around the back he found the small hidden door, the only one that wouldn’t trip some alarm if used, and swiped his identification badge and input his personal PIN to let himself in.

He strode through sparsely-populated hallways toward the communication room, paying little attention to those he passed, and returning greetings as he received them. He reached his destination, and simple door with a metal name-plate as the only identification, and knocked twice to announce his presence before letting himself in. The workers in the room were only too happy to see him alive and well, and connected him to Kenma with no hassle.

“So you’re not dead yet, then” came the monotone greeting.

“You’ll have to do more than that to get rid of me” Kuroo smiled fondly “how are Bokuto and Akaashi?”

“They’re both on their way back to base already. Unlike someone else, they didn’t destroy their only means of communication.”

“Hey, don’t blame me, I have no idea what happened to it” Kuroo defended “besides, I’ve jumped through so many hoops to get back here, I should get an award.”

“Hm. That sounds like a hassle. But you somehow seem pretty happy about it. Something good happen?”

“Not really, I just met someone pretty interesting, that’s all. I’m looking forward to my next day off.”

“I see. Well that’s fine then. I have someone coming to pick you up. We’ll regroup at base and work on a new plan of attack, hopefully without an ambush this time.”

“Roger that.”

**Author's Note:**

> There it is, finished at 2:30 in the morning, and edited at 5 the next day.  
> Title credit goes to dat_patriot


End file.
